The Unnamed Promise
by Electric Light Shadow Boxer
Summary: The fourth in the Unnamed series. The events and subsequent fallout in the Unnamed Miracle have taken their toll on Nate and Eliot. Can they reestablish their relationship or are their problems too much for the relationship to withstand?


TITLE: An Unnamed Promise

AUTHOR: Electric Light Shadowboxer

RATING: M

CATEGORY: Slash

PAIRING: Nate/Eliot

DISCLAIMER: I do not own, nor am I associated with Leverage. No copyright infringement intended. This little piece of insanity was written for fun, not profit. I make no money. Literally.

SUMMARY: The fourth in the Unnamed series. The events and subsequent fallout in the Unnamed Miracle have taken their toll on Nate and Eliot. Can they reestablish their relationship or are their problems too much for the relationship to withstand?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Takes place after The Two Horse Job and contains slight spoilers. Can be read as a standalone but will make more sense if you read An Unnamed Miracle first. Note that this series follows the order of episodes on the season 1 DVD's instead of actual broadcast order. Contains suggestion of M/M. Don't read if you're offended.

Eliot pushed down his irritation as he finally stepped out of the warm press of humanity and looked around the terminal for Nate. He didn't see him and he growled with frustration. He'd had a long flight to think about his relationship with Nathan. He knew the other man was sorry, and that he'd resolved his feelings.

But until the last couple of days in Kentucky, Eliot hadn't resolved his. Oh, he still cared but he just hadn't been sure that he could withstand the ups and downs that came with being with the other man. Nate was a mess, the depression, the alcoholism, the self-destructiveness. Yeah, Nathan was definitely high maintenance. So while he'd kept tabs this last month he had kept his distance. It had hurt but he had to have time to think.

Then Willy had called, and he'd known he had to help, even though the thought of seeing Aimee made something in his chest twist painfully. Then he'd found out she was no longer married and he'd thought that maybe he could go back. It was a worth a shot. After all, he and Nate weren't together at the moment and they'd never really agreed to monogamous. It would be so much easier to love someone else.

After he and Aimee's little tryst in the hay he'd realized it wasn't any use. Aimee had too. He was already too wrapped up in someone else. So while everything wasn't perfect, he was ready to try and start bridging the divide between them.

He fought his way through the crowd to the baggage claim area hoping to catch Nathan there. He spotted both Hardison and Parker walking out, baggage firmly in hand. At the baggage claim area he spotted Sophie wrestling with two bags. He pushed his way forward to help her. "Hey, let me get one of those for you."

Sophie looked up and smiled. "Thanks. Have you seen Nate? That's his bag." She gestured toward the bag Eliot held in his hands.

"No. I was about to ask you the same thing."

Sophie sighed and looked around. "He was ahead of me when we got off the plane but I lost him in this crowd." She sighed and brushed the bangs from her eyes. "I hope he isn't planning on driving home. He had enough on the plane to get him a DUI."

Eliot shook his head. "I'm surprised he hasn't gotten one already." He looked around; scanning the crowd for the other man, but it was useless. The place was just too crowded. "I'll take his bag. He may be in the lounge. If not, I'll take it to his apartment. I've got something I want to run by him."

"Oh. Well, okay then." She couldn't quite hide the disappointment in her voice. "Alright. Thanks. I guess I'll see you later."

Eliot watched her walk off and then started toward the bar in the lounge looking for Nathan.

* * *

Nate was in his inner office before he heard the outer door close behind Sterling. He dropped his bag on the floor by his desk and let out a deep breath, trying suppress the growing rage and pain that were suffocating him. He was shaking with the effort but it was too much. With a scream he picked up the lamp on the end table by the couch and threw it across the room where it shattered. Trying to calm his breathing, he dropped into his desk chair and grabbed the bottle of Jameson out of his desk.

Their flight had come in from Kentucky earlier that evening and with all the problems between him and Eliot; the constant pounding fear in his head that he'd screwed it up, the certain knowledge that Eliot had been with Aimee. . . The last thing he felt like doing was listening to that son of a bitch Sterling. Nate curled his lip and chewed on his tongue. That smug, self-serving bastard had dared bring up Sam's death. Sterling was going to learn that if he kept poking him with that stick Nate was going steal it and bash him over the head with it.

A good portion of Jameson and an hour later, the dark in the offices was a balm. The world, life, everything around him seemed too bright, too noisy. But right now, here, it was dark and quiet, and he didn't care if it ever got light again. He was sitting in the leather desk chair, bottle on the table and glass in his hand. He stared at the bottle, estimating how much more he would have to drink until even the sensation of his beating heart ceased to register, until he could float away on those amber waves, and forget.

He took another sip and closed his eyes. The liquor no longer burned on its way down. He was way past that. He wanted to erase the last month from his mind. No, fuck that, he wanted to erase the last two years. Take care of it all at once. He hadn't managed it yet but he still hoped. There was always next time. Next time it'd all fade away and stay away. Sam, Maggie, Eliot, all of it, just gone.

He stood, stumbling, and walked over to the window overlooking the street below. There were faster ways. The sidewalk below him seemed to beckon and taunt. All he had to do was go to the top of the building and step off; quit screwing around with the alcohol and take care of it once and for all. God, sometimes it was so tempting; especially this last month.

He went home sometimes, but more often than not he ended up staying here in his office. Home held too many memories. There were too many things left unsaid and undone, too much had been unnamed. Now it didn't look like they would ever get around to naming things.

Eliot had asked for time, so he'd given him time. He couldn't blame him really. Not after the way he'd treated him, not after the way he'd behaved. Eliot called once in a while, checking up on him, making sure he hadn't drank himself into a coma, or that his stomach hadn't come apart at the seams, or that he hadn't turned yellow with jaundice as his liver failed. For a while the phone calls had been enough. Just knowing that Eliot was still thinking about him, that he still cared, had helped.

Nathan laid his forehead against the window and closed his eyes; let the cool glass soothe his hot skin.

When Eliot had called and asked him to come to Kentucky he'd hoped that this distance between them might start to close. It didn't matter that it was a job; it was something for Eliot, a way to start making amends. But, Eliot hadn't been ready to close that gap.

"The lights are pretty at night. Not as pretty as Paris but still pretty."

Nathan meant to whirl around but alcohol had dulled his senses and slowed him down so he ended up stumbling, barely managing to stay out of the floor. He squinted into the dark and blinked, trying to get his eyes to focus. "Parker?"

She bounced her heels on the side of his desk, a somber look on her face.

Nate shook his head and took a step forward, eyes still squinted. "Where did you come from?"

Parker picked up the equipment she had on the desk beside her. "I was on the roof testing a new harness. I've adjusted it so it'll be more comfortable for men. I've never had to worry about that before so it was something new to think about."

Nate shook his head and made his way over to the couch, hand out to brace on the sofa arm to help guide himself down. "What do you want, Parker?"

Parker shrugged and fiddled with the hem on her shirt sleeve. "I wanted to see if you were okay. I mean, we've barely seen you at all before this last job and I have to admit, I haven't seen you drink so much on a job since we took down the Retzing's in Miami. Plus . . ." She trailed off and slid off the desk, walking to stand in front of Nathan. "You know, I actually know more than people give me credit for."

Nate shook his head at her non sequitur. "What?"

She sat down in the floor in front of the couch and looked up at the team leader. "I know that things aren't going well between you and Eliot. It makes me sad. I think it makes you sad too."

Nathan blinked at her, unsure of how to react. "You what?" He held up his hand to stall her answer, at this point he really didn't care. "Never mind. Do the others know?"

Parker shook her head and stood, looking out the door. "No. I figured you guys were trying to keep it secret. I mean, Sophie would have a cow." She grinned and turned back to face the man on the couch. "Well, if you're okay I'm going to go finish testing this. You are okay, aren't you?"

Nathan nodded and waved her out. "I'm fine." He watched her walk out of the office and then let his head fall onto the back of the couch so he was looking at the ceiling. So Parker knew. That didn't surprise him a bit. The others let her odd way of thinking keep them from seeing how observant she was, but he knew. There was a reason she was the best thief in the world and it didn't all have to do with her small size and agility.

He took another gulp of his drink and closed his eyes, knew he was getting close as the room spun around him. He opened his eyes to stop the sensation. Just a little more and maybe he could sleep.

He finished off the glass and stood, pausing to make sure the floor didn't tilt too much, and then made his unsteady way over to the desk to pour himself a couple fingers more for good measure.

There was a noise at the door and he sloshed the whiskey onto his hand, clumsy. "Damn it, Parker. What is it now?" He turned to see someone else standing in the doorway. They were in shadow, the light from the window not making it clear who it was, but whoever it was filled the doorway better than Parker. "Who's there?"

Eliot stepped forward and sighed, looking at the man standing by the desk. "When you didn't show up at your place tonight I thought I might find you here."

"Eliot." He blinked a couple of times. He turned and started to make his way to the couch. When he stumbled arms wrapped around him and steadied him, making sure he was upright before letting go. He turned his head to stare at the other man's face, nose to nose. "Thank you." His eyes were so close, his lips. It would barely take an inhalation to bring them together. But he'd promised, so he stepped away and sat down on the sofa.

Eliot pushed the hair back out of his face and sat down next to the other man. It was dim but he eyed Nate, comparing how he looked on this last job to how he did a month ago. It wasn't good. He'd lost weight, probably wasn't eating, at least not anything solid, and he was drinking on the job again. And not just a little to maintain, no, serious, pass out and stop breathing drinking. He didn't know what he'd expected. The extra stress of the tension between them was just making Nathan worse.

Eliot looked away, uncomfortable with the way the sight of Nate made his stomach flip. There was something, some aspect to him that he hadn't seen since they'd started this ordeal. He couldn't put his finger on it but it was bothering him. The silence continued between them until it became uncomfortable. Eliot sighed. He'd been the one to ask for time until he could get things straight in his head. He supposed he should be the one to break the silence. "Nate, I know we have a lot to work out, but I was hoping you'd come home tonight." He paused, still not looking at the other man. "To my . . . our home, I mean."

When Nate still didn't say anything, Eliot turned and looked at the other man. He sighed when he saw him passed out against the back of the couch, cheek against the leather as gravity continued to pull him down. He ran his hands over his face and stood, taking the glass before it could spill. He stood in front of the other man with his hands on his hips. He didn't want to leave him here. He was ready to put this behind them. It didn't sit well with him to leave Nathan passed out on the couch alone. He wanted him home.

"Eliot?"

Eliot whirled, hands coming up instinctively to block whatever might be coming. He dropped them and sighed when he saw Parker standing in the doorway. "Parker, what are you doing here."

"I was testing new equipment." She stepped into the room to look around Eliot to see the man on the couch. "You going to leave him there?"

Eliot narrowed his eyes and looked at her. "What am I supposed to do with him?"

Parker blinked her eyes at him. "Take him home."

"Home?"

Parker sighed. "Look, I just went over this with Nate. I know, I won't tell anybody, and isn't it about time you guys made up. You're both miserable like this."

Eliot stared at her a moment, mouth open. "There's something wrong with you." But there was no recrimination in his tone. He sighed and nodded his head. "I'll get him; you help me by getting the doors." He stepped forward and picked up the unconscious man in a fireman's carry. "And I'll still drop you on your ass if you puke on me."

* * *

The porcelain was cool against his cheek, making him shiver. Now if he could only wrap that feeling around his whole head, soothe away the constant pounding that threatened his stomach again. The tiles of the floor dug into his knees, leaving little geometric patterns, but at this point he could hardly care. He wanted more whiskey, just knew that it would make him feel better, but his stomach flipped unpleasantly at the thought and he had to swallow it back down. A plastic tumbler entered his line of sight and he brought a shaking hand up to grasp it.

"Swish and spit."

Nathan did as told and then laid his cheek back down on the commode rim, closing his eyes and trying to breathe deeply through the nausea. Nothing doing, he felt his stomach climb up toward his mouth and he heaved, body trying to expel the poison in his system.

Eliot knelt down next to him and rubbed his back as Nathan continued to dry heave. He winced as he could feel the muscles in Nathan's back and sides contract with the heaving.

Nathan finally stopped and laid his cheek back down on the commode, eyes closed, cradling pain in his chest and stomach from the force of his heaving.

Eliot stood up and leaned against the wall, hands rubbing over his face, trying to wipe away the worry and fatigue, managing to dislodge some sleep crumbs, before crossing his arms over his chest. It had been one of those rare times that he'd allowed himself to fall asleep, comforted by the solid warmth of the man next to him, when he'd heard Nathan gag and then stumble from the bed. He'd sat up in time to see Nathan stumble into the bathroom door and then fall to his knees in front of the toilet. At least this time he'd made it to the bathroom before throwing up. Eliot was going to have to get a wastebasket to keep by the side of the bed before Nate ruined his carpet.

They waited a few more minutes to make sure that Nate wouldn't give a repeat performance and then Eliot helped him up and led him back to bed. He frowned at tremors coming off of Nate in his arms. "You're shaking."

Nate looked at him. "I'm tired and I just lost everything I've eaten in the last month. Of course I'm shaking."

Eliot pursed his lips but didn't say anything else. It wouldn't do any good. He got the other man situated and then crawled in next to him, gathering him next to his chest, as if he could still the shaking by the strength of his arms. He kissed the back of Nathan's head before resting his own forehead there. "Go back to sleep, Nate."

* * *

The next day Eliot stayed in bed, next to Nathan. It was something he rarely did, he never could see the sense in staying in bed when you couldn't sleep but he couldn't stand to make himself get up. He wanted to be close. It wasn't that Nathan hadn't thrown up before. He had, plenty of times. But the shaking was new and worrisome. He'd known Nathan had been drinking more during their separation but he hadn't really realized just how much. He wondered if it was too late for Nathan to drop back down to his normally ridiculous amount instead of the stratospheric amount he seemed to be consuming lately.

Beside him Nathan moaned and Eliot turned to look at the clock. It was going on twelve. Nathan moaned again and Eliot turned, eyes watchful as Nathan stilled and took stock of himself. It was always the same when Nathan drank himself into unconsciousness.

First, he'd become real still, eyes closed. Nathan had told him once it was like trying to get used to breathing again. He had to just lay there and make sure that everything was still working. Then, he'd lick his lips, making little smacking noises while trying to work some moisture back into his mouth. If he'd thrown up there would be a grimace. Next, awareness would seem to move from the internal to the external, focus from inside to the very surface of his skin. Only then would he open his eyes.

At first his eyes would be unfocused, and the look on his face would be uncomprehending. Then clarity would come, and if he knew where he was, he'd close his eyes and breathe deeply for a while. If it'd been a really bad night, and he didn't know where he was, he'd frown and look around, figure it out, and then close his eyes and breathe.

Right on cue Nathan's eyes searched around the room until they landed on Eliot. He frowned a little bit and then closed his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

A thousand smartass remarks flew through his brain, but he stopped before one came out of his mouth. He was tired, and seeing Nathan like this hurt. He wanted to lay all the blame at Nathan's feet. After all, if it hadn't been for the way he felt about them then Eliot wouldn't have been hurt enough to back off. But Eliot knew both of them were responsible. Eliot had known that Nathan was messed up before he'd gotten in the relationship with him. And he'd known what backing off would do to Nate. But he'd needed time. So yeah, Nate was at fault and he was at fault and it just didn't matter anymore 'cause laying blame wasn't doing anyone any good.

He sighed and reached over to push some of Nathan's hair back off his forehead. "Watching you sleep."

Nathan grunted and made motions to get off the bed. Eliot watched but didn't offer to help, sensing that Nathan was feeling irritable, and likely not going to be receptive to too much attention. He watched as Nathan stumbled into the bathroom and pulled down his pants enough to pull himself out. Eliot pushed himself out of bed and pulled on a black tee shirt while listening to the sound of piss hitting water. At least his aim wasn't too far off this morning.

"I'm going to fix some coffee. Do you want me to fix you some toast?"

There was a grunt from the bathroom that could've meant anything. Eliot shook his head and ran a quick brush through his hair, pulling it up in an elastic band before heading out to the kitchen.

In the bathroom, Nathan stood with his hands braced against the sink and glared at his reflection in the mirror, trying to get his brain to kick into gear. He couldn't remember last night. How had he ended up here? He swallowed and then grimaced. He reached for his toothbrush but stopped when he realized it wasn't there. He ran his hand over his face and used some of Eliot's mouthwash instead.

Once his mouth was a little closer to being minty fresh he padded out into the large open area of the living room/dining and kitchen area. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of sizzling meat and brushed past Eliot, heading for the pantry. He opened the doors and scanned the contents, looking for a familiar green bottle. He turned, eyebrows drawn low over his eyes. "Where's the Jameson?"

Eliot paused but didn't look up from the frying bacon. "I . . . uh . . . tossed it."

Nathan stood there, an uncomprehending look on his face before shaking his head. "You tossed the Jameson?"

"Well, it wasn't like I had any use for it." He reached over and turned the stove down, removing the skillet, and sliding the thin strips of meat onto a plate.

Nathan stared at him a moment before shaking his head and then walking over to the coat closet. He dug around in the bottom and came up, triumphant, with a half empty bottle.

Eliot watched as he upended the bottle and took a swig. "Guess I forgot that one."

Nathan walked over to the couch and sat down, taking another hit from the bottle.

Eliot carried two plates over to the table. "Hey, Nate, come over here with me. You need to eat something."

"I'm not hungry."

Eliot walked over and grabbed the bottle out of Nate's hands. "Yeah, well, this ain't helping." He turned and carried the bottle over to Nate's customary place at the table.

Nathan sighed and pushed himself off of the couch and took his seat at the table. He grimaced down at the plate in front of him. "What's this?"

Eliot paused in eating his egg, pointed with his fork. "Grits. They'll be easy on your stomach."

Nathan blinked at him, incredulous. "Grits? Seriously?"

Eliot looked at him, eyebrows climbing his forehead. "Grits are good. Try them."

Nate grimaced again and scooted the plate away before grabbing the bottle and taking another drink.

Eliot sighed and shook his head. "At least eat your toast, man. You can't live on a liquid diet, Nate."

Nathan scowled at him, picked up a piece of the toast and nibbled on the crust.

Eliot continued to eat and watch as Nate tore off chunks of the toast, mutilating it, perhaps thinking it would look smaller, like he'd eaten some.

Nathan took another swig and set the bottle back down on the table. "What am I doing here, Eliot?"

Eliot took a finished off his milk and picked his plate up off the table. He sighed at the mess on Nathan's plate but didn't say anything. He stacked it on top of his own and carried it into the kitchen before coming back out and grabbing Nate's bottle.

"Hey!"

Eliot set the bottle on the counter and capped it. "We need to talk and you need to be relatively sober." He grabbed two mugs down from the cabinet and poured coffee for them both, creamer in his, black for Nathan. He set the mug down on the table and sat down across from the other man.

Nate cupped his hands around the mug, grateful for the heat. He was so cold.

Eliot watched him a moment, concern slithering through his belly at the pallor on his lover's face. He watched as Nate brought the cup up to his mouth and swallowed some of the hot liquid. If it burned him he didn't give any indication. "I came to the offices to get you last night."

Nathan stared at him a moment. "I don't understand, Eliot. Why now? What changed your mind?"

Eliot sighed and took a drink of his coffee. "Look, it wasn't about changing my mind. It was about trying to find out if I could do this." He smiled a little. "You're not an easy man to care for, Nate."

Nathan shook his head and stood up, walked over to one of the windows overlooking the city. "I told you that in the beginning."

Eliot nodded, even though Nate couldn't see him. "I know you did." He was quiet a moment. "I don't know what all went on but I know what I saw on your face when Paul came here. Are you still ashamed?"

Nate shook his head but didn't turn from the window. "You know I'm not."

Eliot stood and approached the other man. "I need to hear you say it."

Nathan turned around and stared at the other man. "I'm not ashamed of you, Eliot, and I'm sorry that I hurt you."

Eliot nodded and studied the other man a moment, noticing how he wouldn't meet his eyes. Eliot stepped forward to catch the other man's lips in his own but Nathan backed up. Eliot scowled. "What?"

Nathan stepped around Eliot and grabbed the bottle of Jameson, tilting a couple fingers of whiskey into his coffee. "Are you . . ." He stopped a moment and took a drink of his coffee. "Are you only back because it didn't work out between you and Aimee?"

Eliot sighed and turned one of the dining room chairs around so he could straddle it and face Nathan. "No." He looked off into the distance. "I care for Aimee, Nate. I care for her a lot, but I don't care for her the way I care for you."

Nate finished off the coffee and poured more whiskey into the cup. He swallowed thickly and stared into his mug. "I don't know if I can do this again, Eliot. I don't think I have the strength."

Eliot stared at Nate, standing there by the counter, thinner, paler, a little more broken, and knew it was true. "I know. Just 'cause we haven't been together doesn't mean I haven't noticed what this has done to you. I've been in touch with Paul too. We've both been worried."

Nathan upended the cup and drank the whiskey down, closing his eyes. He started to push himself off the counter but stumbled. Eliot was there, catching him before he could pitch forward.

"I got you." He led the other man back to the bedroom and stripped him down to his boxers, tucking him back in bed. "Why don't you get some more rest, Nate?"

Nathan turned and burrowed his face in the pillow, breathing in the scent of Eliot that clung to the linens.

Eliot crawled back in on the other side and pulled Nathan close so that he was tucked up against the curve of his chest and abdomen. "I'll be right here."

* * *

He sat up with a gasp, coughing and choking on the scream that was still trying to fight its way up his throat.

Eliot came running in, hearing the strangled cry. He flipped on the light and went to Nathan's side. "Hey, Nate, it's okay. It was just a dream. You're back, it's okay." He put his hand on Nate's back and grimaced at the sweat coating his lover's skin.

Nathan blinked and took a gasp of air, the dream images still superimposed over the room. He couldn't catch his breath. It felt like the dream was reaching up again to try and pull him down.

Eliot frowned and moved around so he was in front of Nate, so he could look him in the eyes. "Nate! Nate, you need to slow down your breathing. You're going to hyperventilate." He grabbed him by the shoulders and rubbed his hands up and down the other man's upper arms, vigorously, trying to get through to him using as many senses as he could.

Slowly the room came into clearer view and Nate blinked at Eliot, eyes wide. "Eliot?"

"Yeah, man, I'm right here. You okay?"

Nathan was still breathing hard but he swallowed and managed to nod his head. Warmth trickled down his cheek and he brushed the tear away angrily.

Eliot pulled Nathan's hand down and rubbed at the following tears with the pads of his thumb. "Must've been a bad one. Want to talk about it?"

Nathan shook his head and took a last deep breath. He stared at Eliot, trying to orient himself to the here and now, before grabbing him and pulling him into a kiss. Eliot was slow to respond, surprised, but slowly he melded himself to the heat of the other man, kissing back as they both fell back on the bed.

* * *

It was still dark out and he tried to figure out what had woken him. He glanced at the bedside clock and realized that he'd only been asleep about thirty minutes. He turned around and reached for Nathan, but the bed was empty, the sheets already cooling.

He got up and walked into the living area. He stopped just outside the bedroom entrance, studying the outline of his lover against the faint light that shown through the windows. It was a painful sight.

Nathan had put on an old pair of sweatpants, leaving his chest bare. When he was wearing his clothes you could tell he'd lost weight but when he was naked he appeared so thin it hurt to look at him. He'd first noticed it when Nathan had been laid bare underneath him, cradling Eliot's body inside his. Nate's hipbones were sharp under his hands as he'd gripped his hips and his ribcage had been much more noticeable.

Now the weight he'd lost was standing out in detail as the light coming in through the window highlighted some planes and deepened shadows in others.

He approached where Nathan was standing, staring out the window. "Nate?"

When he didn't receive a response he walked closer, expecting to find a glass or bottle in Nathan's hands but they were empty. It was such an unexpected sight lately that he was startled. "Nate? What's wrong?"

"Huh?" Nate turned to him then looked past him to the bedroom. "Eliot, I didn't hear you come up."

"I noticed. Everything okay? What are staring at?"

Nathan turned and walked back over to the couch, letting himself sink down into the soft cushions. Eliot followed him over and started to turn on one of the table lamps, but Nathan reached out and grabbed a hold of Eliot's arm, stopping him. "No, don't. Leave it dark."

Eliot tried to see the other man's face in the gloom but he was blocking his own light. He pulled away from the lamp and sat down next to his lover. "Nate, what's wrong."

Nate looked down at his hands in his lap before turning back to Eliot. "I meant what I said earlier, Eliot. I can't go through this again. I . . . I don't think I'll survive it."

Eliot stared at him a moment before shaking his head. "I know. I'm sorry I pushed you away, Nate. I had to figure some stuff out."

Nathan nodded and looked back down at his hands. "Thing is, Eliot, I'm not any easier to care for now than I was then. I'm still . . ." He trailed off, swallowed. "Sooner or later you'll get tired or mad or . . . You'll leave again."

Eliot was quiet for a while before taking the other man's hand. "I can sit here and tell you that won't happen but I really don't know what the future holds. And neither do you."

Nathan nodded and stood, paced to the window.

Elliot tucked a knee up against his chest and wrapped his arms around his leg. His heart was beating hard with the fear uncurling in his belly. Something wasn't right and it was setting alarm bells off in his brain. "What are you going to do if you walk away from this now?"

Nathan shrugged but didn't say anything. He was tired and he didn't know how to do this. He wasn't good at goodbyes.

Eliot stood and approached the other man, his heart still trip-hammering in his chest. Something was beating in the back of his brain, some signal or sixth sense that left him petrified. He grabbed Nate by the shoulders and turned him toward the meager light coming in from the windows. He studied the other man's eyes and swallowed at the emptiness he saw there. Now he knew what was scaring him so terribly. It was the same emptiness he'd seen in his older sister's eyes and it was terrifying to see it there in his lover's. He pulled the other man into a hug, closing his eyes as Nathan came unresisting but not reciprocating either. "God, Nate."

He pushed the other man back and searched his face. "You can't give up. You hear me?" He turned and walked away, running his hand through his hair. He turned back around and approached the other man again. "Things have been hard, I get it. But you've got to promise me something." He waited until he'd caught the other man's eye. "Give it some time, man. Give me a month, Nate. Please, just give me a month before you make that decision."

Nathan wanted to say no. He wanted to just curl up and just let it all go. But the fear in the other man's eyes wouldn't let him. He licked his lips, swallowed, and nodded.

Eliot grabbed the taller man by the back of the neck, making him look him in the eye. "Promise me, Nate." It came out a growl, the fear making his voice drop.

Nathan searched the other man's face, trying to find his voice. "I . . . Eliot . . ." He couldn't get the word past his lips.

Eliot snarled and his fingers dug into Nathan's shoulder. "I ain't about to lose you too. Now, say it, damn it!"

Nathan swallowed, a little afraid of the look in the other man's eyes. "Yeah, okay. I promise."

Eliot stared at him a moment more before nodding and pulling the other man's head down onto his shoulder. "Okay. Okay, Nate." He hugged him tight, breathing in the scent of him. "Come on, let's go back to bed."

He pulled Nate into the bedroom once again, and let him crawl under the covers before crawling in next to him. He lay there, Nate gathered up in his arms watching the shadows shift across the wall. He felt Nate's breathing eventually even out and deepen, but he stayed wide awake, eyes on the man that had come to mean so much to him.

* * *

He was aware of the bed dipping beside him and the smell of coffee invading his nose. He opened his eyes and looked up at the other man sitting there, looking at him. He grimaced and pushed himself up so he was sitting against the headboard. "What time is it?"

Eliot held the cup of coffee out to him and watched as Nathan's shaking hand took it. "It's about eight."

Silence filled the space between them and the events of the night before slowly ebbed their way back into Nate's brain. The knowledge that he'd bared so much to Eliot made him uncomfortable, embarrassed.

Eliot could see from the look on the other man's face that he remembered their conversation last night. He hadn't been sure he would, and he wasn't sure if it was a relief or not that he remembered. He sighed. "Listen, I've got to run out and take care of some business. Paul is coming over to sit with you while I'm gone. You need to get up and come out into the living room."

Nate shook his head, setting his coffee cup on the bedside table. "That's really not necessary, Eliot. Look, what I said last night . . ."

Eliot cut him off. "Yes, it is necessary. Look, I ain't leaving you alone for a while. It's not that I don't trust you, but I know how tempting those thoughts can be, and adding alcohol to the mix just makes matters worse."

Nathan searched Eliot's face, his eyes, trying to read the subtext behind the man's words. "Who was it?"

Eliot looked away and started to rise off the bed.

Nathan reached out and grabbed his arm. "Eliot, come on. You picked up on what I was thinking and feeling too easily. You're dealing with this like you have experience. Who did you lose?"

Eliot sat back down and scowled. "My older sister."

Nathan's eyebrows shot up. "The one that taught you to cook?"

Eliot nodded and ran his hands over his face. "Yeah." He was quiet a moment. "Maybe I'll tell you about it sometime but right now you need to get up so the priest won't have to sit in our bedroom. I know he's accepting of our relationship but that might be pushing it a bit, don't you think?"

Nate allowed a small smile to curve his lip before he turned somber again and dropped his gaze to his lap. "Eliot, I'm sorry."

Eliot let himself fall back down on the bed. "Sorry?" He sighed and moved the hair out of his face. "Look, man, you've got nothing to be sorry about. You can't help the way you feel. Things ain't been easy. So don't apologize."

Nathan shook his head, laughed a little, too loud, too much. "I wish . . . I'm just sorry."

Eliot searched his face for a moment before nodding. "Okay." He stood and tapped Nathan's foot where it stuck out from under the covers. "Now, get up."

*The End*

Playlist

Overweight: Blue October

Where Did You Sleep Last Night: Nirvana

Suicidal Dream: Silverchair

It's Probably Me: Sting and Eric Clapton

Cumbersome: Seven Mary Three

Broken: Seether ft. Amy Lee


End file.
